Chapter 2

The drive to the university was three hours of suffocating silence, broken only by Brenda' s saccharine humming to gospel music on the radio.

Sarah stared out the window, the choppy, uneven mess of her hair hidden beneath the severe bun Brenda had re-fastened with an iron grip.

The destroyed clothes, her small act of defiance, lay in a trash bag back home.

Brenda had watched her pack, ensuring every item met her "standards."

Long skirts, high-necked blouses, sturdy, sensible shoes.

A uniform of oppression.

When they finally pulled up to the bustling freshman dorm, Sarah felt a flicker of hope.

Maybe here, surrounded by so many new faces, she could finally fade into the background, become anonymous.

Brenda shattered that hope before Sarah even unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Now, Sarah, remember your manners," Brenda said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "These are important first impressions."

As they approached the check-in table, Sarah saw her assigned roommate, Emily, already there, chatting with another girl, Jessica.

They looked bright, excited, normal.

Brenda, spotting them, immediately launched into her performance.

"Oh, you must be Sarah' s roommates!" Brenda exclaimed, her voice loud enough to turn heads. "I' m Brenda Miller, Sarah' s mother. It' s such a relief to meet you."

Emily and Jessica offered polite, slightly bewildered smiles.

"Sarah is a very... delicate girl," Brenda continued, patting Sarah' s arm in a proprietary way. "She' s been raised in a very sheltered environment, you see. She' ll need strict guidance to navigate all these new... influences."

Sarah wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

She could feel the other girls' eyes on her, on her shapeless dress, her severe hair, the way her mother spoke about her as if she were a child or an invalid.

The Resident Advisor, a cheerful sophomore named Chloe, approached with a welcoming smile.

Brenda immediately zeroed in on her.

"And you must be the RA! Wonderful. I' m so glad there' s responsible oversight. Sarah needs a firm hand. She can be easily led astray, bless her heart."

Chloe' s smile faltered slightly, but she maintained her professionalism. "We' re here to support all our residents, Mrs. Miller."

"Good, good," Brenda said, nodding approvingly. She then turned to Sarah, her voice carrying. "Now, let' s get your things upstairs. And Sarah, dear, remember what we discussed. No... fraternizing too loosely. Stick to your studies. That' s what you' re here for."

The words hung in the air, heavy and humiliating.

Sarah could feel the curious, pitying, and slightly wary stares from other students and parents.

Her face burned.

Emily and Jessica exchanged a quick, unreadable glance.

As they lugged Sarah' s ridiculously old-fashioned suitcases up to the dorm room, Brenda kept up a running commentary.

"This room is rather small, isn' t it? Are you sure it' s safe? And the communal bathrooms, Sarah, you must be very careful."

Once in the room, which was standard dorm size, Brenda inspected every corner.

She rearranged the modest, Brenda-approved decorations Sarah had been allowed to bring.

A small, framed Bible verse. A picture of their family – Brenda beaming, David looking vaguely uncomfortable, Sarah looking trapped.

Emily and Jessica tried to make small talk, asking Sarah about her major.

Sarah mumbled responses, acutely aware of Brenda monitoring every word, every glance.

"Sarah is here on a very prestigious scholarship," Brenda interjected. "She needs to focus entirely on her academics. No distractions."

The message was clear: Sarah was off-limits, a strange, cloistered creature under her mother's suffocating wing.

The hope for anonymity, for a fresh start, was dead.

Brenda had successfully branded her within minutes of arrival.

Isolated. Different. A project for her mother.

Sarah wanted to scream, to run, to tell everyone this wasn't her, this wasn't who she wanted to be.

But the threat Brenda had made the night before echoed in her mind.

Her scholarship. Her only escape.

She was trapped.

Brenda' s control hadn' t loosened with distance; it had merely extended its reach, poisoning her new environment before she' d even spent a night in it.

The kick to her spirit was brutal.

Her father, David, had stayed in the car, claiming a bad back.

He always had an excuse to avoid Brenda' s scenes, to avoid confrontation.

His passivity was a silent endorsement of Brenda's cruelty.

Sarah felt utterly alone, the weight of her mother' s expectations and the pitying stares of her new peers pressing down on her.

College hadn't even started, and it already felt like a failure.